Love in the Time of Chocolates
by lostinwanderland
Summary: 'Chocolaty mess is how she would always remember it. She would remember the taste of lingering chocolate on his lips their first time...' Inspired by a prompt: a oneshot featuring a series of kisses that mark important milestones in Syaoran and Sakura's relationship. SS


**Disclaimer:** I don't own CLAMP or any of the characters.

Follows the manga timeline but involves references to the anime/movies as well. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Chocolaty mess is how she would always remember it. She would remember the taste of lingering chocolate on his lips their first time for many years to come and how adorable he looked when he eagerly opened up the box she had given him. He had torn the wrapping apart almost immediately after giving her a shy smile and shoved a Meltykiss in his mouth. It was then that it had suddenly occurred to her how very much she wanted to know what a _real_ Meltykiss actually felt like—and at age almost-sixteen, a girl could wonder.

She would remember her heart pounding in that moment as she asked him if he liked it. They were sitting on the bench at Penguin Park in the receding snow and he was wearing a green muffler she had made for him. She inched closer.

He started to say he loved it but his breath caught in his throat. She noticed a smudge of chocolate on his bottom lip. They both forgot the question when she leaned in with the intention of rubbing it off. Her thumb was centimeters away from the corner of his lips when he reached out a hand and stopped hers.

"You've got some chocolate on your lip," she stated unnecessarily. Their warm breaths were visibly mixing together in condensation as he continued to stare at her. His intense amber eyes were much too close. She knew her cheeks must have been rosy and knew it wasn't only because of the cold. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tasted chocolate, sweet and soft on her tongue.

"Ouch," he cringed, holding his fingers to his lips. She wiped her own lips, which felt wet and strange. Then she realized she had accidentally bit him.

"Oh!" she gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Syaoran-kun!"

"Am I bleeding?" he asked.

"N-no," she shook her head. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have. I don't know what I…what I—"

"It's okay," he said, smiling. "I'd do it again."

She would remember the way he cupped her cheeks then and how she saw no anger in his eyes—only love. Smiling, she leaned forward again.

Chocolate would flavor every one of their Valentine's Day kisses from that day forward.

* * *

He would forever associate rain and cherry blossoms with the fifth time it happened.

She was leaning against the wall under the bridge, laughing merrily and catching her breath. He wondered how she could possibly be so happy when her sixteenth birthday picnic date had just been ruined. Everything was supposed to go according to plan: the forecast was sunny, the skies were blue, and spring had arrived—until a sudden downpour caused them to run for cover. Why hadn't he thought to bring an umbrella? He should have been more meticulous. He thought he had everything down to the tee: omelet and seafood were her favorites, strawberry cake was a given, and cherry blossoms were in bloom.

He would remember the colors vividly that day. A sea of pink petals painted the canopy above them, contrasting beautifully against the cloudy greys. Her sunflower yellow dress matched her smile perfectly. He thought every smile she wore was her best.

"What's wrong, Syaoran-kun?" she asked, looking at his scowling face with concern.

"Your birthday date got ruined. It didn't go according to plan," he responded. "I'm sorry."

He always thought her giggle was the cutest thing he had ever heard as she started doing just that. In spite of himself, he felt his spirits lift—she was the only one who ever had that effect on him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It wasn't supposed to rain. The picnic…the cake…"

"You baked a cake for me?" she asked brightly. He nodded, suddenly feeling his face heat up. Robotically, he lifted the bag and held it out to her. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she looked down at the package and sparkled even more when they fixed themselves back onto his amber ones. He could smell the scent of cherry blossoms surrounding them but could have sworn it also emanated from her skin.

"Syaoran-kun," she said, and he was amazed to find her voice so tender and soft. "You should know by now that you don't have to worry about ruined plans with me. I'm already so thankful for your gifts and being able to spend time with you. Besides, the rainy detour was fun."

Her ideas on things like 'fun' and such were always bizarre to him, but he knew it was one of the many reasons he loved her. There was no denying it, he thought, she was genuinely entertained by the spontaneous events of the day. He brushed a strand of wet hair clinging to her cheeks away and marveled once again at his luck in being able to call her his own.

"Sakura," he began, touching his forehead to hers. But when he saw the corners of her lips slowly stretch upwards, he wanted that smile for his own.

There was no need for any more words to be exchanged—only the sound of the rain pattering around them and the scent of cherry blossoms coloring their world.

* * *

Unfortunately, the taste of jasmine tea would that day be tainted by the bitterness of worry.

She worried as she sat on his couch, listening to a language she didn't understand. She grew even more concerned as his voice carried on in stubborn Cantonese and grew progressively more irritated. She gripped the handle of her teacup nervously as he strode around the kitchen, subconsciously releasing his stress by swinging his sword around with one hand. Another half hour had passed.

She continued to worry as he finally hung up the phone and came back to sit down next to her, sighing all the while.

"What did they want?" she asked tentatively. Anxiety filled her as she waited in silence for his answer. The tea grew cold in her hands.

"They want me to go back permanently," he said finally. Her breath caught, her worst fears confirmed. The jittery agitation she felt suddenly seemed to dissolve into a cold deadened puddle at the pit of her stomach. She remembered being unsure which feeling was worse.

Her heart sank lower and lower as they sat in tense silence for a few moments. He seemed to be deep in thought while her throat seemed to be choking up. Attempting to speak normally without cracking, she opened her mouth again.

"S-so…what happens when you leave?" Her eyes began to fill as she looked upwards trying to contain it all.

"Leave?"

She blinked back tears and dared to look at him.

"A-aren't you…didn't they—?"

Her heart came back alive as he slipped his hand into hers and smiled. Although three years had passed since that joyful day he returned, she still often felt butterflies at this simple gesture.

"I think I could work out a way to stay," he said, cupping her face. "You of all people know how stubborn I am."

"You're _not_ leaving, then?"

"Sakura, I can't think of a single thing that could possibly convince or force me to leave you," he stated reassuringly. At these words, she managed a watery smile.

"Promise?"

The jittery feeling reignited in her stomach—but not from the same anxiousness as before—as he ran his thumb slowly over her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she found his response in the familiar murmur of his tongue against hers, her hand against his chest, and his fingers in her hair.

She would be able to drink jasmine tea happily again in the future. After all, some things don't end up tainted forever.

* * *

Peonies would mark the night he knew.

He knew it the moment he heard her raise her voice for the first time. He knew it the moment she ran out into the hot summer night, when he thought there was a chance that she would want to leave him. He knew it the moment he saw her tear-streaked face and realized just how much she had cried. He knew when he saw her pain that no matter what happened or what arguments they would go through, he would always try to make things right again, and when he saw that she had stopped running, he knew she must have realized the same.

He watched her sit down on one of the swings in Penguin Park, the very same set they had often occupied in happier times. In all five years of being together, this was the worst argument they had ever had.

He knew she was still sniffling when he approached carefully from behind, knew her eyes must be swollen as he sat down in the swing next to her. He took a deep breath but they both said it at the same time.

"I'm sorry."

"No, Sakura, it's my fault—I should have realized you felt hurt…"

"Syaoran, no, I'm the irrational one. You're always the voice of reason and I shouldn't have gotten so upset…"

As they continued in the same vein, forgiving each other and promising to understand one another better in the future, he knew. He knew that inevitably, they would have to face countless more difficult moments such as this, if not worse. But he also knew she was the only one he would want to fight for, fight against, and fight with together.

He knew it when he saw her conjure up her star wand for the first time in a while, bringing back memories of the first time she gained full power over the cards and how resplendent she appeared, glowing in humble power.

She summoned the Flower card and held a bouquet out to him.

"The Flower card has always been able to make things right again between people in the past," she said. "I hope it does the same again this time and for the future as well."

He took the peonies into his hands and found that a lump had risen in his throat. More than anything else that night, he knew it without a doubt as he tried to thank her, but found himself physically incapable of speaking as he tried to swallow the overwhelming rush of affection he rarely ever felt.

He looked up at her as she stood up from her swing and walked over to him. He closed his eyes automatically as she held on tightly to to the chains on both sides of him and leaned in.

Peonies were always his favorite flower, but he knew he would love this particular cherry blossom more than anything for the rest of his life, as long as they both shall live.

* * *

The starry night sky was a deep velvety blue when it happened.

Though it was an ungodly hour, they had flown themselves to her usual dream spot overlooking Tokyo Tower, reminiscing over their childhood memories. He never had spontaneous whims like these but she was pleased to go along with it all the same. They sat and talked for hours.

Before it happened, a song began to play softly from the apartment room right below them. Although she knew it was just a woman who had to leave for work before the sunrise, she couldn't help feeling like the city was conspiring with them, giving them moments to remember this by. She took his hand and pulled him up, twirling along to the rhythm of the Melody to Tomorrow.

It happened as the sun came up. Her emerald orbs were gazing intensely into his amber ones when he cleared his throat and took both her hands into his. In that moment, the only conviction she could feel with her entire being was that she loved him more than anything in the world. He took his hat off, a familiar gesture, and she was suddenly aware that it was about to happen.

Her breath caught in her throat—it was happening—as she realized he had gotten down on one knee. Her eyes were shimmering with tears and a sweet smile was growing wider and wider on her lips.

It was happening, but the words never made it out of his mouth. She kneeled down in front of him and threw her arms around his neck, and when her lips found his, her response was set.

They danced and danced until the sun rose high into the sky.

* * *

He wasn't sure who was the more difficult battle: his mother or her brother.

Outwardly, besides the fact that he was wringing his hands, he was calm and collected. Inwardly, he was flooded with dread. Several things were worrying him—what if his mother upset her with her strict traditions, what if she was getting cold feet, what if she felt forced into participating in cultural customs that made her uncomfortable, what if, what if, what if…

He didn't ever want her to feel uncomfortable; it didn't suit her well. But being who she is, she complied despite his insistence that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. He knew if anyone could tell she was uncomfortable at a single glance, he could.

 _Only three weeks left_ , he thought, although the stress levels were bound to only keep increasing for them all.

He was pacing around his living room while various worst-case scenarios of her leaving him at the altar were playing out in his head as he waited. _What if, what if, what if…_

"Ano…" His head shot up. He knew that shy squeaky tone by heart.

"It doesn't look weird, does it?"

She stepped out of the dark hallway and into the light. His jaw dropped and his eyes feasted, taking in all the ways that the beautiful red and gold fabric wrapped tightly around her figure, the way the sleeves framed her arms and shoulders, the way she blushed nervously awaiting his verdict.

Although he had seen her in more outfits than he could ever have hoped to see, the wedding qipao held more meaning and depth. Her patience and loving spirit that compelled her to wear it because she had chosen him—willingly chosen to marry him as well as his family—spoke volumes and more words than he could ever even say in that moment.

"Syaoran?"

Unable to express a single thing, he gave her a blazing look that she returned at once before he took her up in his arms.

He could forgive his mother now, he thought as they ended up casually draped on his couch. Her brother was definitely the more difficult battle.

* * *

She was waiting outside the doors. It was nearly time. Excitement and nervousness were pumping adrenaline through her veins. She turned slowly to face the altar.

She was walking arm in arm with her father, smiling shyly as the crowd stood up in their seats. All eyes were turned towards her but she was only searching for his.

His face showed every sign of awe, clearly stunned by her radiant beauty. Never before had she seen such an expression light up his face. She would remember it forever, just as she would remember all the little moments of their lives that had brought them to this point in time.

Pieces of their relationship flashed through her mind as they exchanged their vows. Their initial rivalry, his eventual friendship and support, their blossoming love, her obliviousness to it all, his confession before he left, their years of letter writing, her joy in his return, their first chocolaty kiss…

Every moment of their lives so far had led them up to here.

"And now you may kiss your bride."

She giggled after they pulled apart as everyone around them erupted into clapping and cheering. Of course, she should have known he couldn't have resisted, should have known he would have tried to sneak a bite in before the ceremony started; and she loved him even more for it.

And thus, she would always remember their wedding kiss as a chocolaty mess—just as sweet and memorable as their very first—for the rest of all days to come.

* * *

\- THE END -


End file.
